


the last verse

by frostykate



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, really effin sad be warned, you’ll probably cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4029121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostykate/pseuds/frostykate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Prouvaire goes to his death. he is not at peace with the idea. he dies anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the last verse

**Author's Note:**

> Prouvaire makes me cry, so of course there had to be a drabble. even though my sentences go on and on, and I ramble and do not use punctuation marks properly. posted first on my tumblr (beesarealiens) on Barricade day 2013. sorry for the title, originally it didn’t have one.

there isn’t anyone around (you’re surrounded by your enemies, everyone else has lost), you were the first and the last group, and it’s not simple, it’s not pretty, and you need  _help_  (the people are scared and the soldiers waiting)

it had been dangerous anyway, but it gets worse, because it’s different following your leader and speaking of better future (wanting revolution, wanting  _change_ ), it’s easier to talk than fight when there’s a guard climbing over your barricade with a gun aimed at your head, meaning to shoot, pushing you down (you must kill him, so you do)

and you’re banging on the closed door, crying, saying  _please_ , because there is fear in your heart (you’re only a student, after all, and you left your parents sleeping in their beds and you’re sorry,  _so sorry, dear sister,_  it was hard to go), but no one’s opening

and then there’s the man you called  _brother_ , pulling you back through the broken door (with difficulty, because you’re resisting, your feet scraping against the glass on the ground, and you still don’t know  _why_ ), and by now you’ve realised that you’re about to die soon and you’ll never see your family again

so you go up the stairs (even though you have no chance,  _none at all_ ), you hold on to the hands and lean on the (still breathing and alive, but not for long) friends near you, because you do not want to be alone (and you’re just a frightened  _child_ , really), and you wonder if it’s going to hurt (more than it already does)

you’re afraid of death, who isn’t (the last thing you remember is love,  _always_ , for those dead and dying here with you, and the living you’ve abandoned, but they are safe and far away)

a shot rings out, and suddenly you don’t know anything anymore (mother and father find your body, and there are tears streaming down their faces, but it’s too late, and the women mop up your blood from the streets)

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should explain. this was my second ever fic. ever. that’s why the quality is lacking. (the first one was a part of a Coulson Lives project, and I won’t be posting it.)


End file.
